Part One: Chapter Three
The Second Video
Jim Gordon's computer screen faded to black. White letters lit up the middle spelling. "Session Two: June 1 2010" This video was recorded three weeks before the first he'd watched. Gordon was unsure why they were set to play out of order, but he brushed it aside as the video started.
The black vanished to once again show a different room than the one in the first clip. Both women from before were present in the image, this time sitting across from each other at a steel table bolted to the ground. The camera was angled so that the viewer could see both the faces of Dr Young and her patient.
Young sat strait in her seat, hands folded in front of her with a strained smile on her lips. Her cloths consisted of a cream blouse and black dress skirt with black pumps and hair pulled up into a tight bun.
Chris, on the other hand, was slouched down in her seat, arms strapped in a straight jacket, and cuffs around her ankles attached to her bolted chair. A lazy grin lip up her face as she gazed unnervingly at the psychologist.
She leaned forward, the soft jingle of the chains containing her making the atmosphere even creepier. "Soooo, doctor." Chris drawled. "What do you want to talk about today?"
Young swallowed thickly, but didn't let her nerves show aside from that. "Can you tell me about your childhood?" She asked carefully.
"My childhood? Sure. Why not?" Chris shook her head to get her bangs out of her face. "Where. To. Start. Hmmm... Wellll I never had a dad. Never new him. Not sure my mother even did. She was a prostitute, my mommy. Who knows which one of lays was the one who helped make me." Chris started tapping her foot to a silent beat as she continued. "What else? The first time I killed I was three. Not a person mind you. Well, first time I remember doing it. There was a large spider in my room. Instead of running to get my mother or squishing it, I sat down next to it and started to pull its legs off. one. by. one. When it was just a little body I squished it with my thumb. I think I was five when I killed my first lizard. It was one of those little green ones you see outside all the time. I tried catching it, but all I got was its tail. You know how they break off? That's what happened. I grabbed the tail and it broke. And it just... wiggled. Kept wiggling around and twitching until it stopped. I wanted it to keep twitching. So I caught another one, but this time the lizard stayed attached. I wanted to see if the lizard would twitch and wiggle like the tail did. So I got a stick and started pocking it. I pocked it harder and harder until the lizard went from green to red. And you know what? It did twitch and wiggle!"
She beamed at Young. "It was wiggling and wiggling so much! Then it was twitching and quirting red, and then it stopped... it wasn't much fun after that. Just sat there squirting. So I got a new one. I'm not sure how many lizards I've played with in my life. Lots I guess."
Chris shrugged.
"I was nine when I killed the neighbor's dog. It wouldn't stop barking. Just bark bark bark! So annoying. Sooo, I snuck out one night, grabbed mommy's steak knife, and carved up the little puppy like Christmas dinner." She started cackling. "Ohh the neighbor kids cried and cried the next morning when they say their little puppy with its insides suddenly on the outsides!"
Chris shook her head, like it was such a mystery as to why children would cry over their dead pet. It probably was to her.
"Don't get me wron-g here. I love doggies. Just the big ones who like to eat people." She threw her head back and laughed. "I had some of those once. Four big bad puppies who tore up people I didn't like. That is, when I didn't tear them up first!"
Dr Young swallowed thickly. Her blue eyes were wide as she watched her patient dissolve into a fit of hysterics.
"You talk like him." Young said suddenly.
Chris jerked her head up to stare at the other woman. Her head slowly tilted to the side. "Talk like who?"
"The Joker."
Chris threw her head back and laughed. The chilling giggled filled the small room, echoing around the white space and making it seem even more eery.
It took neer a minute for Chris' laughter to subside, and even then she still giggled. "I talk like him?" She giggled again. "No, no-no-noooo, he talks like me!"
"What do you mean?" Inquired Young.
Chris' tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth, then drew back in with a 'smack'. "I mean, he started talking like that about... hmm.. ten years ago?" Her lips pursed together in a way that could almost be considered cute. "Yeah, it think it was ten years ago. Maybe a little more." She shrugged, but the action was hampered due to the straight jacket.
"I got my head bashed into a brick wall. It ah, caused some damage to my brain." She giggled. "Never went to a doctor for it. So I had to go to school talking like thisss." Her giggled turned once more into full blown laughter.
"But what does that have to do with the Joker talking like you?" Asked Young.
Chris' face went from laughter to simmering anger faster than an eye blink. "I was getting to that." She hissed. A cheerful smile lit up her features a moment later. "At school, all the other kids laughed at me. It hurt. It really did. I was already considered a fr-eak. So, Jack started talking like me, to make me feel better about myself. And it worked."
"Jack?" Asked Dr Young, confused.
Chris lifted out of her chair as far as the chains would let her. "Havn't you been listening! Are you really that dumb?!" When Young flinched back, Chris sat back down with dark satisfaction.
"I want a different shrink." She announced suddenly. Young opened her mouth, but Chris interrupted her before she could get a word out. "I don't like you. Get me someone else." Her eyes lit up suddenly. "I want the shrink you used on the Joker. Get me her."
Young opened and closed her mouth like a fish before nodding and slowly standing back up. Chris watched her leave, satisfaction written clear on her face.
The camera blinked out only to come back on seconds later, though the time in the corner of the screen read nearly forty minutes had passed.
Instead of Dr Young, another psychiatrist sat across from Chris. She was younger, with light blonde hair pulled into a bun and a pair of glasses perched on her nose. Her expression was bright and open and her eyes sparkled with intelligence.
But there was something hidden behind those bright eyes, but Gordon hadn't a clue what it was.
The woman smiled. "Hello. My name is Harleen Quinzel."
Chris just stared at her, a small, amused smile twitching against her scared cheeks.
"So, you said your name is Christina-"
"Chris! My. name. is. Chris!" The woman roared, straining against her restraints. Harleen remained calm in the face of her patient's fury, though she did tense the slightest bit. She was weary of Chris, that was clear. Probably a good thing too. It was dangerous to get comfortable around people like her.
"I'm sorry, Chris then."
Chris relaxed back in her chair. She took a deep breath through her nose. "Don't ever, ever call me that again. Understand?" She growled.
Harleen nodded calmly. "Of course." She leaned forward and folder her hands on the table. "Do you have a last name, Chris?"
Miss-matched eyes stared at the blonde for a long, tense moment, before Chris slowly nodded. When she didn't speak, Harleen pressed, "Can you tell me what it is?"
A small smile peaked at the corner of Chris' mouth. "Napier." She said simply.
"Napier?" Harleen asked. She didn't touch the notepad beside her, didn't even look at it. One would think she'd be jotting down pages of notes on what the woman said, yet Harleen just watched. Perhaps she just had an excellent memory. Plus, the session was being recorded, so she didn't need to copy down that Chris said.
"Chris Napier." Harleen tried out. "Now we have a name to go with the face. We have no records of you. Birth certificate, fingerprints, medical records. You're a ghost."
Chris smirked. "Exactly."
Harleen raised a brow. "Then why tell me your name?"
Chris leaned back. "Well, Harley," she licked her lips. "people like me don't exactly have the longest life expectancy."
Harleen seemed surprised. "You think you're going to die?"
Chris threw her head back and laughed. "Of course! Everyone died, just like everything burns." She smiled darkly.
"But you think you're going to die sooner rather than later."
"Of course. With an... occupation, like mine, there really isn't a retirement plan. If I don't get the lethal injection, I'm bound to get shot by a trigger happy cop, or even go up in flames with one of my own bombs." She giggled. "However I go out, I know it will be spectacular. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Harleen nodded. "So you think you're going to die soon, what does that have to do with telling me your identity?"
Chris licked her lips again. "Everyone wants to be remembered. Everyone wants to leave a legacy."
"Isn't the destruction and chaos enough?"
Chris shook her head. "No, noo, you miss the point of the chaos. It's not just for the fun of it, though it is really, really, fun. No, it's to show people that, no matter how good they like to pretend they are, they're all monster inside. Some just hide it better than others. That's where we come in. The Joker and I. We draw out those monsters, lay their dirty little secrets bare, and show it off to the world. Because, people need to be reminded that they are only as good as the little demons in their head." A smile stretched across her face. "We all have demons. Little, evil, demons whispering in out ear."
Harleen cleared her throat.
Chris narrowed her eyes, the smirk growing. "Am I making you feel uncomfor-ti-ble?" She leaned forward. "Have a hit a nerve? Little Harley? Little Harley... Quinn?"
"We're here to talk about you, not me." Harleen defended cooly.
"Oh, ho! I have!" Chris shook her head. "Tsk, tsk. I think you may be the one to need a psychiatric evaluation. Borderline, is it?"
Harleen froze. "How-?"
Chris grinned toothily. "I know the crazies when I see them, Harlequin."
"He called me that." Harleen breathed.
Chris' face darkened. "Who?"
"The Joker... he called me that. Harlequin..." She took a breath to still her nerves. "Why do you want me to know your name?"
Chris raised a brow. "Changing the subject are we? I'll humor you for now. I want people to know our story, at least a little bit of it."
"Why?"
The grin nearly split Chris' face all over again. "So they know just how easy it is for an angel to turn into a demon..."
AN: So we got to meet Harley Quinn. We'll be seeing some more of her later. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with Harley just yet. We'll be seeing some other Gotham villains as we go as well. Try and guess who, and makes some suggestions if you like.